Ruthless Alpha, and his Curvy Saint-Chapter 56

Lord Merrick’s POV

"I don’t know any Harland," I said to the guard. "But if he traveled alone through this storm, he either has important business or he’s insane. Either way, I should meet with him."

The guard nodded and led me through corridors to the main receiving room - a formal space I rarely used, reserved for visitors I didn’t quite trust enough to welcome into my more intimate spaces.

The man standing in the center of the room looked like he’d been dragged through hell backwards.

He was young, with dark hair plastered to his skull, his clothes soaked completely through and dripping onto my expensive floors. His lips had a blue tinge, his whole body shook with violent shivers, and his eyes held the kind of desperate exhaustion that came from pushing far beyond reasonable limits.

He looked like he was about ten minutes from death by exposure.

"Gods," I muttered. "Get him to the bathing chambers. Now. Hot water, warm blankets, dry clothes." I snapped my fingers at the guard. "Move!"

He moved immediately, guiding the shivering man toward the nearest bathing room.

I followed.

Because while he looked harmless - half-dead men usually were - I hadn’t survived this long by trusting appearances. He could be a spy. An assassin. Someone sent specifically to infiltrate my castle under the guise of a desperate traveler.

There were servants cleaning the bathroom for the evening. Immediately they saw us, they took charge, stripping off his soaked clothes with no regard for modesty, filling a large tub with steaming water, adding warming herbs that would help counteract the cold that had settled into his shivering bones.

Harland - if that was even his real name - didn’t protest. Didn’t seem to have the energy for it. He let himself be manhandled into the tub, sinking into the hot water with a groan that sounded almost pained.

His shivering intensified at first - the body’s response to sudden warmth after prolonged cold - then gradually began to subside.

I stood near the door, arms crossed, watching.

Waiting.

When his lips finally returned to a more normal color and his teeth stopped chattering quite so violently, I spoke.

"Who are you?" I asked bluntly. "And what are you doing at my castle?"

Harland looked up at me, water dripping from his hair into his eyes.

"Exactly what I told your guards," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "The storm was too much. I needed shelter. I’m lucky I found your castle when I did - another hour out there and I wouldn’t have survived."

True enough. The storm had only intensified since this morning.

"Where were you heading?" I pressed. "No one travels alone in weather like this without a very good reason."

"Black Wolf territory."

My interest sharpened. "That’s at least three more days of travel once the storm clears. What business do you have there?"

Harland was quiet for a moment, seeming to debate how much to reveal.

"I’m looking for someone," he said finally. "Someone I need to get back."

"Get back?" I moved closer, studying his face. "This person was taken from you?"

"In a manner of speaking." His jaw tightened. "She was captured by slavers and brought to my village, but then she disappeared, and I suspect the Black Wolves has her."

"The Black Wolves? Why would you think that?"

"Because she was last seen with them. I asked around."

I had a feeling there was more to the story than he was letting on.

"This woman must be very special to you," I observed. "To brave slavers and deadly storms."

Something fierce and protective crossed his face. "She is. She’s... she needs protection. And I failed her once already. I won’t fail her again."

The conviction in his voice was palpable.

This wasn’t just determination. This was something deeper. Something that looked uncomfortably like love.

"What’s her name?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Dread was pooling in my stomach, cold and heavy.

"Angel," Harland said. "Her name is Angel."

Of course it is.

Of course.

Because apparently, my life needed more complications. More men showing up to claim interest in the one woman who was supposed to be my brother’s mate but might actually be mine according to unclear divine visions. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"Well," I said, forcing my voice to remain neutral, "you’re welcome to stay until the storm passes. We have rooms available."

"Thank you, my lord. Your hospitality is..."

"Save it." I waved off his gratitude. "Get warm, get dry, get some food in you. There will be dinner soon. You’ll be called."

I turned to leave, then paused at the door.

"This Angel you’re looking for," I said without turning around. "What makes you think she wants to be found?"

The question hung in the air.

"Because I know her," Harland said quietly. "And she deserves better than whatever fate has dealt her these past weeks. Even if she doesn’t want me specifically, she deserves to be safe from this cruel world. To be free."

Noble words.

Probably even sincere.

But they didn’t change the fact that he was one more obstacle between me and what I wanted.

"Rest well, Harland," I said. "You’re going to need your strength."

For what was coming, we all were.

*******

I made my way to the west tower, my mood considerably darker than it had been an hour ago.

Harland.

Another man searching for Angel. Another complication in an already impossibly entangled mess.

How more many men were going to show up declaring their interest in my brother’s mate? Was there going to be a line forming outside the castle?

Focus on immediate problems, I told myself. Deal with Sera first.

The guards outside her room nodded as I approached. I dismissed them with a gesture - what I had to say to Sera didn’t need witnesses.

She was still unconscious when I entered, sprawled on the bed where they’d laid her, the lump on her temple now an impressive purple and black.

I had no patience for waiting.

"Wake up," I said, none too gently, shaking her shoulder.

Nothing.

I shook harder. "Sera. Wake. Up."